


Embroidered in Corduroy

by zaynsdisciple



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: 1970s, Alternate Universe - 1970s, Alternate Universe - Historical, American Football, M/M, Period Typical Attitudes, Period-Typical Homophobia, Period-Typical Racism, Period-Typical Sexism, Smoking, apricots, farms
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-14
Updated: 2020-01-15
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:53:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22256743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zaynsdisciple/pseuds/zaynsdisciple
Summary: “With discotheques, quaaludes and Mormon pitchforks on the rise; in the rural town of Hurricane, Utah a boy in corduroy pants is intent on unraveling the boy who smokes by the apricot orchard”
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Kudos: 2





	Embroidered in Corduroy

**Author's Note:**

> Hii  
> This is my first ever fic on this forum, hopefully those who read will like it well. This is my baby, please take care of her.

Harry’s bored. But when isn’t he bored. He’s not alone in his boredom, not in a town with a small of a population of less than 2,000. Which is why he finds himself laying in the bed of Niall’s Chevy truck going 55 mph on a long stretch of road, blaring The Strawbs.   
“Harry where exactly are we heading to?” Niall lowers the music to shout out behind him, keeping his eyes on the road.   
“Just keep drivin’, Ni. I’ll let you know when to stop” harry drawls.   
He’s met with silence. 

Harry’s lived here his whole life. In butt fuck nowhere, Utah. Hurricane, Utah to be exact. With a dad who owned a pecan farm, a ma’ who was to be obeyed, and an older sister who ran the choir at church.   
Harry’s family was Mormon. And so was everyone else in this town. Obedience was not an option. Harry learned that quickly and didn’t seem to mind. Life was easier if you just followed suit and didn’t bat an eye. Deep down Harry knew this wasn’t how life was supposed to be lived but he couldn’t find it within himself to actually care. 

Suddenly, the truck comes to a screeching halt with the horn blaring. Harry slides upwards and crashes his head on the metal.   
Holding his head in one hand and hoisting himself up with the other, he shouts,   
“Niall! If you know I’m in the back, why would you-“   
Harry stops. He stares through the dark night and what looks to be a small figure. Clad in wet blue jeans, a white tank and a bundled shirt in his hands, the man simply stares at both boys in the truck. 

“If you were hoping to get run over, then you’re shit at it,” Niall shouts while hanging out of the car window.   
The man doesn’t respond, his eyes flicker back and forth from Harry to Niall.   
Niall looks back at Harry who’s already staring back at him. Confused with what to do, Niall honks his horn again. 

“Listen, if you don’t plan to kill us with your stare, could you at least move out of the way so we can go?” Niall questions. His voice almost wavering. Almost. 

The figure retreats from the middle of the road, now sporting a slight smile and raising his palms up to show no harm.   
Niall slowly starts moving down the road but Harry, supporting himself on his knees, tracks the figure.   
Before he can even figure out anything, Niall begins to pick up speed and the man is reduced from his vision. Smoke from the tailpipe blocking what's left to see.   
Harry sits back down, “Who do you think that was?” he peers into the small back window of Niall’s truck.   
“No fucking clue and I don’t think I wanna know.”   
“I do,” Harry responds.   
“Fair enough, however, might you find out, I dunno, tomorrow when we’re sure we won’t get chased down by some soaking maniac on the road?” 

Soon enough they make it down to State street and Niall reduces speed. He parks at the gas station and Harry hops out from the bed.   
“That's the last time I go with you on your stupid drives, Harry” Niall chastises while pointing at him with his keys in hand.   
“Admit it, you like getting out of town for a few hours with me.” Harry softly pats Niall’s shoulder as they walk into the store. 

“That was before we were met with that freak on the road!” Niall hisses. 

“Alright, alright, you’ll never let me off the hook for that will you?” Harry drifts off to pick up a snack. 

“Considering I was the one driving and almost ran him down? No, Harry, I don’t think I can let this one go so soon.” Niall follows him. 

Harry is about to respond but the words stop in his throat as he looks up across the shelves and is met with an older but familiar set of tired green eyes. 

“Dad.” 

“What's this I hear about almost runnin’ someone down?” A low rumble of a voice is heard.   
Des Styles wasn’t meant to be here at the gas station, at 11:50 at night. So why is he here?   
Both boys keep quiet.   
“Harry, boy, if I ask you a question I better get a response.” Mr. Styles peers again, slowly making his way around the aisle and to both of the quiet boys. 

“Niall had errands to run, I decided to join and it got late and we just stopped for gas so his pa’ doesn’t hand him his ass tomorrow mornin’.” Harry lies.

“That still doesn’t explain why Niall almost ran someone down.” 

“Well, on our way back from makin’ my deliveries, we saw someone. Some guy in the middle of the road- all wet. Came outta nowhere so I slammed my breaks just in time.” Niall butts in. 

“Who?” Mr. Styles turns with an eyebrow turned up. 

“Well, we didn’t stay to ask. We just booked it.” Harry replies. 

Mr. Styles takes this in, lowering his gaze to the beige tile floor with a slight nod. “Might I ask, what delivery you boys was makin’?” 

“Down to St. George, sir.” Niall pipes up. “Just droppin’ off some feed and needed the extra muscle to haul it down from the bed. So I asked Harry to tag along. My apologies if you had anythin’ planned for him today. I promise to ask in advance down the road.” 

Mr. Styles rests a small smile. “That's quite alright, I had nothin’ planned. What I don’t like is you boys traveling that late and that close to the city.” 

Harry can’t take his eyes off of the case of beer in his dad's hands. His family isn’t big on beer, nor have they ever had problems with drinking. But what they don’t know is that Harry does. Harry drinks. Harry thought he counted right and hadn’t made a huge dent in how many beers were left in the garage, but if his dads here buying more… 

“Well, it's gettin’ late, Niall, I thank you for givin’ my boy somethin’ to do this afternoon but we best be gettin’ home. You tell your pa’ that I’ll see him this comin’ Monday.” Mr. Styles places the weight of his free hand on Harry’s shoulder and begins to guide him towards the cash register. 

“Yes, sir. Will do.” Niall shouts out as he walks out of the gas station. 

As Sarah, the attendee begins to cash them out, Harry can’t help but feel his pa’s gaze on him.   
Quickly they walk out of the store and begin the small track on foot back to the house.   
“Now, Harry, you know I don’t mind you helpin’ out your friend but I also know you’re fully aware of my thoughts on gettin’ that close to the city.”   
Harry isn’t really paying attention to what he’s talking about. Mindlessly he responds “I understand.”   
Mr. Styles hums and places his heavy hand on Harry's shoulder.   
“Let's just get home and rest. We’ve both had a long day.” 

____________________________________

Louis’ feet are burning. He knows that. But he’s got no other option other than walking. He could have easily hitched a ride with those boys back there but popping up out of nowhere, sopping wet isn’t the best way to go about getting a ride. 

Gently, he closes the back door of the house and begins to creep past the kitchen, down the hall, and into his room.   
Past the kitchen, down the hall and into his room.   
Past the kitchen, down the hall and into his room.   
Past the kitchen, down the hall and into-

“Where’ve you been, Dovey.”

Louis can feel his blood freeze. He’s grateful for the dry air outside that managed to dry his clothes in time but he’s still cold and it’s obvious he was out. 

“I just came back from a walk,” he mutters as his back is turned away from his mom. 

Slowly, he hears the soft footsteps gliding past the kitchen tiles and making their way closer to him. “You and I both know that’s not the truth.”  
Louis lets out a long sigh and turns to face his mother.   
“I went out for a swim in the lake. That's all. I was just acting dumb. I’m sorry if i worried you.”   
He doesn’t meet her eyes and guilt begins to seep in. 

He has soft brown hair, just like her. Cheekbones set high, just like her. Sadness, just like her. 

“I’d rather you tell me where you are in advance, than having you just runoff,” she whispers softly but firm. 

He still doesn’t meet her eyes. “I know, I promise I’ll do it next time.”   
Humorlessly, she chuckles, “You always say that Loubear”   
With her hands, she places them on his shoulders and spins him back around. “Go on. Get some rest.”   
Wordlessly, Louis goes, never meeting her eyes. 


End file.
